


Move-In Day

by lirin



Category: Oxford Time Travel Universe - Connie Willis
Genre: Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/pseuds/lirin
Summary: A house doesn’t become a home all at once. But even on the first day, there are already glimpses of the home it will be.





	Move-In Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abluestocking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluestocking/gifts).



> My thanks, as ever, to my awesome beta, drayton.

Polly hadn't lived in a house in ages. Even back when she'd been in Oxford—which seemed ages ago, all on its own—she'd lived in a flat shared with other students. There had been no room to spread out, and she hadn't wanted to spread out, for fear her flatmates would break or misplace her belongings during the long weeks she was away on practicums and other assignments.

And now, she finally had a house, but so few belongings to spread out in it. Thank goodness the house was furnished, at least. And Alf and Binnie seemed to be doing plenty of spreading out all on their own. They rocketed from one end of the hall to the other, playing some sort of game that Polly didn't know the rules to. She wondered if she should preemptively tell them not to swing from the chandelier, or if it would be unwise to give them ideas.

Alf ran up the staircase, then slid back down the banister, screaming. He flew off the end and into the back of a sofa. "Five feet, that time!" he yelled to Binnie, who was waiting at the top of the stairs for her turn.

Definitely a bad idea, Polly decided. She left them to their reign of destruction, and went to find Eileen.

Eileen was in the kitchen, with every cabinet door swung wide and drawer open. "Looking for something?" Polly asked.

Eileen started. "What? Oh, no, I'm not. Sorry, I'll get these out of your way." She paced around the kitchen, pushing doors shut. "I was just hoping they might have left a few things behind. Some spices, perhaps. They have a nice set of pans, though. There's a big stockpot. I thought we could cook bones and leftover veg into broth for soup. I think you can cook them multiple times, for more broth from the same amount of bones. I've never done it before, though—made broth, that is."

"I'm sure you'll be a natural," Polly said, patting her on the shoulder. "And even if it doesn't turn out quite the way you want, it's guaranteed to be better than Mrs. Rickett's. I'm certain that sometimes I tasted chalk in her puddings."

"I found a stick in one of her casseroles once," Eileen said. "There will be no sticks in my soups, I promise you that." She surveyed the empty countertop, hands on her hips. "The only problem is, I'm not sure what all _will_ be in them."

"Once we've finished settling in, you can go to the shops and find out," Polly assured her. "Just think of it, you'll have four whole ration books to shop with! And children get that extra milk ration; I'm sure you'll make better use of it than Mrs. Rickett did."

"I haven't made pudding in years," Eileen said. "I hope I remember—" Both of them jumped as a crash sounded from the sitting room. "I hope that wasn't the chandelier," Eileen said.

"Everything's fine!" Alf yelled from the sitting room. Strangely, this assertion was not actually reassuring; Eileen rushed from the kitchen, and Polly followed, hot on her heels.

The sofa that Alf had been sliding into was now across the room, with a coffee table placed lengthwise between it and the banister—for ease of sliding, no doubt. Next to the table, an overstuffed chair was toppled over, stopped from hitting the floor only by the presence of the sofa it leaned on. Above, the chandelier was swinging wildly, but none of the furniture showed any signs of broken glass.

"We weren't trying to hit the chandelier," Alf claimed. "I just wasn't watching where I was going. I only bumped it."

"I think that chandelier had better be wrapped up for safe keeping," Eileen said. "It's a marvel none of it broke before, when the house next door was hit. Polly, do you know how to take it down?"

"I know!" Alf said.

"Very carefully and gently," Polly said firmly. "That's how it is to be taken down. But no, I've never taken down a chandelier before."

"I'll contact the estate agent," Eileen said. "I'm surprised he didn't take care of it already. And until then, let's take a break from sliding down the banister. Alf, can you please set the furniture back where it was? You can try again to slide further once the chandelier's out of the way."

Polly was surprised at how quickly Alf obeyed; Eileen must have said just the right thing.

"Do we get to have our own rooms?" Binnie asked. "Ow! Not that way, noddlehead, go around!" Alf had pushed the coffee table into her shin, an action Eileen had neglected to disallow.

"There's plenty to go around," Polly said.

"I want the one upstairs on the front of the house, with the big window!" Binnie said.

"I wanted that one!" Alf cut in.

"Actually, I'm afraid I've already put my things in there," Eileen said. "Binnie, what would you think of the room next to it? The window's almost as big, and it has a reading nook."

"What would she use a reading nook for?" Alf asked, still tugging at the couch to put it back where it had started out.

"To read, you ninny," Binnie said. "I'll have lots of reading to do, now we're in school." She hurried upstairs, which Polly supposed meant she approved of Eileen's alternate room suggestion.

"What room do _I_ get?" Alf demanded. "Do I get a reading nook, since I'm in school too?"

"The room across from Binnie's has a desk by the window," Eileen said. "You can do schoolwork at it. And there's a hook to hang Mrs. Bascombe's cage."

"But I want a reading nook!"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Eileen said firmly. "If you don't want the room with the desk in, you can have a different room with no desk, but you'll have to do your schoolwork at the kitchen table where I can keep an eye on you."

"I'll go look at the room with the desk," Alf said, rushing off as well.

"You handled that well," Polly said. "You're a natural at parenting."

"I'm sure you will be as well," Eileen said. "Just give it time."

"Time's the one thing I don't have to give," Polly said.

"Nonsense! You've months left, longer than many people's assignments last in their entirety. We have a home now. Let's make the most of it."

The sitting room was back to normal, chair righted and coffee table centered, though the sofa was still a little askew. It didn't look like a home yet, but it was home anyway. Above them, the chandelier had stopped swinging. Polly worried that the children would set it off again—bouncing on the beds was sure to be a tempting prospect—but she would enjoy the stillness while it lasted.

Eileen stretched. "Want to see my best attempt at a beef stew?" she asked.

"I can do better than that," Polly said. "I'd like to _taste_ your best attempt at a beef stew that I helped with, in our very own kitchen."

Before either of them could take a single step, they heard a loud crash overhead, followed by an indignant "Alf! You noddlehead!"

Polly looked at Eileen. "Should we sort that?"

"After dinner," Eileen replied. "Along with anything else that happens before then."

Polly smiled. "I'll start a list."


End file.
